Silent Hill: The Blackout
by Relentless N
Summary: Discontinued.
1. Chapter 1: The Blackout

Author's Note: Consider this the reason why I haven't uploaded anything related to my other project yet.

* * *

I'd only had four hours of sleep in the past five days. Fatigue had long since begun to impair my mental as well as physical ability. 'Just a few more minutes,' I told myself for the umpteenth time. My deadline was only a few hours away and I still had three planned chapters to go.

"I promised a Depraved Dentist and damn it, I'm gonna deliver," I shouted as a means to motivate myself. I'd been too lenient in planning this story.

I was at the end of chapter seven now and I'd begun to perk up. Finishing the last sentence of the chapter, I stood up and headed to the kitchen to grab a soda.

"Dentist down. Now I need to work in the captains betrayal and tattoo-guy's introduction and I'll be all set," I mumbled with a tiny grin.

I made it the ten feet to the stairs when I was finally hit full force by my exhaustion. I lifted my foot to mount the first step and everything went dark.

* * *

I laid on what felt like cold cement for a long time. How long, I can't be sure. But it was strange. Some part of my mind was shouting that I was laying on cheap, torn up carpet in the downstairs computer area of my house. Another part of my mind was arguing that I could have just blacked out from lack of sleep and wound up stumbling outside. Another part suggested it was just a dream. I wanted to believe that one.

Finally, I reluctantly opened my eyes. I had indeed wound up outside, but I had no idea where I was. My head was pounding. If I had passed out and fell backward, my head would have hit the side of a coach. Or, it could be from hitting the cement. It really didn't matter at the moment.

Fog obscure my vision. Silence pressed in on all sides. My head was still pounding. I was in the middle of a four-way intersection.

More alert now, I glanced around to try and get my bearings.

"Stupid fog. Is that a building. It looks like a building. I can't really tel-STUPID FREAKIN' FOG," I shouted.

"Come on now. It's not the fog's fault you can't see," someone nearby said in a vaguely familiar voice.

I looked around, ears straining for the sound of footsteps. Nothing.

"Where are you," I called out. I was starting to lose my nerve.

"You were asleep a really long time."

With each word, a faint recognizance swelled up in my mind. It was a mans voice. Somewhat childish. It definitely sent chills down my spine. But why was it so familiar. That's what I was straining now.

"I thought you might be dead," the man said. He sounded closer now. I still hadn't heard any footsteps.

"Who are you," I asked in a shaky tone.

"But here you are, standing and looking and talking to me," the man said as though he hadn't heard me. He was practically on top of me now. I could feel his presence mere inches behind me.

I balled my fist and swung around, hoping to catch the man by surprise. My fist made contact with something that could have been his face. He was knocked back by the surprise but was still on his feet. I cringed as I realized why his voice was so familiar.

"That wasn't very nice," Walter Sullivan said as he straightened up.

I was struck by both fear and awe as he spoke. A wicked grin spread across his face as he lifted the pipe in his right hand.

"The Game!" They were the only words I could think of.

He suddenly dropped the pipe and said, "Seriously!"

I seized this opportunity and ran as hard and fast as I could. Walter was only flustered for a few moments. Unhindered by the fog, he pulled a handgun out of his coat and aimed it at my back. He pulled the trigger but a lucky trip at the last second saved me from what would have been a bullet in the back of my skull.

My glasses had flown off and I swept the ground with my hands for a moment. They made contact and I slammed them onto my face as I half-stood up, half-ran down the road. It didn't take Walter very long to catch up to me. I was out of shape and my breathing became labored very quickly. An idea suddenly struck me. I knelt down on one knee and waited for Walter to reach me. I raised and hand and said, "You go on ahead. I'll catch up."

"Alright," he said and continued on into the fog.

"Heh heh. Sucker."

I ambled back to the intersection and decided to take his abandoned pipe. 'If I am where I think I am, I'm gonna need this.' A memory of a quote from one of my favorite games floated into my mind.

"It's dangerous to go alone. Take this. … YOU JUMPED INTO A SWORD. YOU RETARD!"

I smiled to myself and set off at a quick pace in case Walter figured out what just happened.

* * *

"Hey, wait a minute," Walter yelled as he turned back around.


	2. Chapter 2: You Were Hit By A Bus

"Absolute victory," I cried out for the umpteenth time since I lost Walter. I was now heading toward what looked like a diner, the pipe held tight in my right hand. I walked inside and was greeted by the barrel of a 9mm.

"Freeze," the officer wielding the gun commanded.

"Screw that," I said, sidestepping the weapon and making a one-handed swing with the pipe. The blow connected with her head, smashing her skull with a sickening crunch and sending her now limp for flying sideways across the room.

"Why'd you do that," another person shouted at me from my left. In the space of a second, the diner's second occupant, a man wearing a dark brown coat had swept past me and was at the officer's side.

"She's dead," he said. He stood up and turned to me. He was now holding the gun.

* * *

"Um, hang on a second. Author, I think we need a reset here."

"Why? It's your mess. You fix it."

"Can't. I'm not the god here."

"Tch... Fine. Don't rely on that too much."

* * *

"Alright, now what were you saying," I asked the man. The female officer had just sat up, apparently unharmed.

"It's a miracle," he said in awe.

"Not really."

"What just happened," she asked, dazed.

"You were hit by a bus," I said as I bonked her on the head again.

"Why'd you do that," the man asked again.

"Dunno."

There was a tapping on the window behind me. At first it was light, then grew gradually into a steady pounding. The brown-coated man had a puzzled look as he stood up.

"Give me that gun," I told him calmly.

"Why," he asked.

"That's a blond guy wearing a blood-stained coat and wearing an insane I'm-about-to-rape-and-murder-you smile, isn't it?"

"Yeah."

"Gimme the gun."

"You're not gonna shoot me, are you."

"No. Now hand it over."

He slipped me the weapon. I mentally counted to three and swung around. I let my finger go wild on the trigger, not stopping until the gun's clip was empty. I lowered it and was unsurprised to see that Walter wasn't even fazed by the sudden attack.

"Did any of them hit," I asked him.

"Yep," he said cheerfully. He opened his coat to show that every round had indeed hit him.

"While I'm thinking of it," the brown-coated man chimed in, "Has either of you seen a little girl? Dark hair... just turned seven?"

"Harry," I asked him.

"Yes, that's my name," he said.

"No," Walter and I said in unison.

Both Walter and I looked back at each other, each trying to read what the other was about to do. My bullet volley had busted a rather large hole in the diner's front window. I looked around for something I could use on him.

* * *

"I could use a you-know what right now."

"No. This story is rated T and I'm not about to..."

"Not that! The other thing."

"Oh. Well, if that's the case... it's in the Wood-side apartments."

"Thank you so much!"

* * *

"Who are you talking to," Walter asked.

"Your mom," I said without thinking. His grin faded and he now had a pronounced murderous look in his eye.

"Meep," I shouted and crashed back out the door. I tore down the street. One thing was obvious, I should not have said that.

"Come back! It's only gonna hurt for a few seconds! You won't even know what hit you," Walter shouted from somewhere behind me. In my rush to get away, I hadn't realized I'd grabbed onto Harry and was now dragging him along with me. He was confused but did nothing to try and break my grip on his wrist.

"What's going on," he asked.

"As soon as I figure it out, I'll let you know," I said.

Walter was shooting at us now. We ducked down an alley and watched as he ran by, shooting wildly. After a few silent minutes, I wheezed, "I think we lost him."

"I doubt it," a playful voice said from behind me.

I swung hard with the pipe and caught Walter in the side of his head. It was smashed into the wall of a building to our right and he fell to the ground, limp.

"You're a little too good at that," Harry mused.

"Foreshadowing," I shot back.

"What?"

"Exactly. Let's go before he gets back up."


	3. Chapter 3: Because I Have A Gun

"So where are we running to," Harry asked, slightly out of breath.

"Wood-Side apartments," I said.

The only sound around was our footsteps as we ran. Nothing, not even Walter, broke the silence. A smirk spread across my face as I thought of the thing that awaited us ahead.

"We're here," I wheezed.

I was doubled over, trying to catch my breath, when another set of footsteps broke the pressing silence. Without thinking, I brought my gun to bear and tried to fire but remembered that I was out of ammo. Instead I switched to my trusty pipe and prepared to beat the hell out of whatever was coming. Harry grabbed a two-by-four that was leaning up against a nearby fence and took up a similar stance. A few moments more of footsteps and the figure of a man in a dark green coat stepped through the fog. He looked first at Harry and then at my and lifted a wooden plank he was carrying to defend himself.

"Oh, look at that," I said, "a woman who doesn't know any better."

"What was that," the green-coated man asked, somewhat annoyed.

"You heard me."

He looked pissed now. There was silence a moment, and then...

"Hey, have you seen a little girl? Dark hair, just turned seven," Harry asked, pulling out a picture from his coat pocket.

"No," the newcomer said.

* * *

"By, the way, Nathan, you weren't supposed to be running. He was supposed to get to the apartments before~"

"WHAT THE HELL IS THIS?"

"What the hell is what? I thought you said you needed~"

"A SWORD OF OBEDIENCE! I NEEDED A SWORD OF OBEDIENCE! WHY THE HELL DID YOU GIVE ME ANOTHER CHARACTER?"

"My mistake. Well, to late now. Gotta go."

* * *

"No wait! NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO," I shouted at, seemingly, nothing.

"Who are you talking to," the newcomer asked.

"He does that sometimes," Harry answered.

"Well, lets get on with it," I mumbled through gritted teeth.

"Um, aren't you going to at least ask my name?"

"It's James, now hurry up."

"How'd you know that," James asked.

"I'm telepathic."

"What."

"Foreshadowing."

"That again," Harry asked.

"Naturally," I replied, "And does anyone have a flashlight?"

"Nope," Harry and James said together.

"Epic," I said, "Then, James, you lead."

"Why do I have to lead?"

"Because you're the new guy and because I have a gun."

"Good point," James straitened at the word gun, "Let's head on then."

"Are you gonna tell him that it's not loaded," Harry whispered.

"Why would I do that?"

"Good point."

After traversing the near-pitch black apartment building, we found a flashlight, which I made James carry.

"Just be sure to duck if we run into anything," I said to him.

We heard a yell to the north and quickly headed that way. By the light of the flashlight, we were able to see a trail of blood leading down the hallway through a set of crudely fashioned metal bars. James tried to run, but Harry and I blocked his path.

"I don't think, Walter's here," I said.

"Who's this Walter and how can you two just stand there," James asked in a panicked tone.

"I can answer one of those two questions," a devious voice said from down the hall behind us.

Without missing a beat, I hefted my pipe and kicked off a full-blown run. I was surprised to hear what sounded like roller skates tearing down the hall. I slowed and in the faint light of James' flashlight, I was able to see a hooded figure slide past Walter from behind. It smacked him across the back of the head with a blunt object that looked faintly like a bat and then continued on its way down the hall. I waited a minute and ran to the end of the hall. Nothing.

"It's too dark to see anything," I said.

I turned to Walter's limp form and knelt. Blood was pouring out of the back of his head.

"James go find some rope."

"Whatever."

"Gun."

"YESSIR!"

"He's a goner," Harry said, "No way he could survive a blow like that for long."

"He's already dead. This probably just pissed him off."

"Here's your rope and I found this sword over there."

"_Sword?_"

"It's got jewels in the hilt."

"_Jewels?_"

"And it's got these strange characters on the blade."

"_Strange character's on the blade!_"

"Should I throw it away," James asked.

"Gimme the sword and your wooden plank."

"Why?"

"Gun."

"YESSIR!"

I handed the plank to Harry and had James lift Walter to his feet.

"Now, when it passes through the plank," I told Harry, "You can let go of it."

I stabbed Walter in the chest with a single thrust. Harry and James both let go and now Walter stood on his own, blood pouring from the back of his head and a sword sticking out of his chest.

"Ow," Walter moaned, "Why does it feel like I was knocked out and stabbed with a sharp weapon of some kind..." He looked down at the hilt protruding from his torso. "Oh crap."

"Sword of Obedience," I smirked," You're mine now."

I tied the rope around his waist and relieved him of his remaining weapons.

"You know how to use this," I asked Harry.

"I know enough," He said, taking the revolver I was handing him.

"What about me," James asked.

"You can have this."

I handed him another wooden plank that Walter had hidden in his coat.

"But I~"

"Alright. Let's get moving. We need to work through two plot lines now."

"What," Harry, Walter, and James asked in unison.

"Just shut up and follow James," I said, grabbing Walters rope.

* * *

Author's Note:

Yeah, I know the swords don't work that way.


End file.
